


it's a small world (after all)

by ladililn



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Disneyland, Getting Together, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 18:57:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5676943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladililn/pseuds/ladililn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Zuko decided to get a summer job, dressing up in a giant furry chipmunk costume at Disneyland was not exactly what he had in mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's a small world (after all)

Zuko really wishes Pocahontas would stop hitting on him.

For one thing, John Smith looks rather put out that his one true love has abandoned him for a giant chipmunk so soon after their wedding. A wedding that was grossly inaccurate to both the Disney movie and actual history, but Zuko supposes that’s just what happens when Prince Charming pulls a no-show for his daily scheduled nuptials with Cinderella. It’s not like kids care about historical accuracy, and considering the only other characters conveniently nearby were Chip and Dale, the decision to avoid performing a furry incestuous wedding ceremony was probably the right one.

“Is it awfully hot in there?” Pocahontas asks. Zuko thinks she might actually be batting her eyelashes, but it’s difficult to tell through the dark screen that’s his only window to the world outside the giant mask.

What a stupid question! For one thing, he’s not allowed to talk. For another, what sort of person hits on a giant chipmunk anyway? She doesn’t even know what he looks like. For all she knows, he could be a girl. Or an extremely old man. Or an actual chipmunk.

He’s saved from answering by the sudden materialization of Jasmine between them.

“Come along, Dale,” she says, taking Zuko’s furry arm and directing a big smile at all the children milling about while their parents snap pictures. “Shall we get you back to Toon Town?”

Zuko lets himself be steered away from the crowd, trying not to look too relieved. Then he realizes no one can see him anyway, which is a relief in and of itself.

“Thank you,” he mutters in a low undertone, as he isn’t strictly speaking supposed to be making any noise that’s not of the chipmunk variety. And since Zuko still hasn’t worked out what exactly a chipmunk is supposed to sound like, that mostly means silence.

Jasmine— _Katara_ , he reminds himself—merely squeezes his arm reassuringly in response.

A chorus of high-pitched squeals signals the imminent arrival of a gaggle of seven-year-olds; Katara lets go of Zuko’s arm so she can kneel down and dole out hugs. Zuko dithers for a moment before realizing the girls don’t have the remotest interest in Dale, which is just fine with him.

He should really head back and find Chip, but he doesn’t quite trust himself not to get lost. This is only his third day, and already he’s been found wandering aimlessly around Frontierland twice, completely at a loss about how to get back to his station. And it was Rapunzel who found him both times, which he’s pretty sure has led her to the conclusion that he’s mentally deficient.

Not that he particularly _cares_ what anybody over the age of twelve who voluntarily chooses to spend their time playing dress-up thinks. He’s just trying to survive the summer here, not make friends.

“Hey, friend!” chirps Chip, who’s managed to find _him_ , apparently. On his first day, Zuko found himself continually perplexed by the fact that everyone at Disneyland has a thing for sneaking up on people, until he realized that the total lack of peripheral vision and echo chamber quality of his chipmunk head just makes it seem that way.

“We’re not supposed to talk, remember?” Zuko mutters. In all fairness, Chip—Aang, that is—actually has a voice that sounds like it could plausibly belong to a cartoon chipmunk. (He’s even perfected the squeaking noises that he insists are biologically appropriate.) Zuko, on the other hand, does not.

“I know,” Aang says, and he _does_ know, because he’s already told Zuko that this is his third—third!—summer working at Disneyland, along with a whole lot of other personal information Zuko never asked to hear. “But nobody’s around right now who can hear us. Lighten up, old buddy old pal!”

Zuko doesn’t know how to respond to that. The only person he can think of who has ever dared to tell him to lighten up is Azula, and she only ever means it in a _light yourself on fire_ kind of way.

“Anyway, it’s time for our lunch break,” Aang says brightly. “Come on, you can eat with me and my friends!”

“Goody,” Zuko says, just as a family with two small children passes them by.

“Mommy, why did that chipmunk sound so sarcastic?”

“I don’t know, sweetie,” the mom says, glaring daggers at Zuko, who decides that all things considered, joining Aang and his friends in the staff cafeteria might not be the worst option.

 

“Everyone, this is Zuko,” Aang says, putting his tray down on the table and taking a seat. “He’s the Dale to my Chip. Zuko, this is Kuzon—he does a lot of characters, but lately his specialty has been Anger from _Inside Out_.”

Zuko nods, intending to be polite, but—based on past experience, not to mention his current mood—probably only managing curt. Kuzon doesn't seem to mind, at least, predilection for Anger aside, and nods back.

“And this is Suki, the incredibly awesome Rapunzel.”

“We’ve met a couple of times, actually,” Suki says, smiling at Zuko. He feels himself turning red.

“Great!” Aang says, delighted. He’s possibly the most easy-to-delight person Zuko has ever met, and he knows Ty Lee. “Suki also does a mean Ariel and Belle. Well, not a _mean_ Ariel—you know what I mean. She’s great at princesses.”

“Thanks, Aang,” Suki says, laughing a little.

“And this is Bumi—”

“Guess what I do!” Bumi interrupts. Bumi looks a little crazy-eyed. The giggle-snort he releases does nothing to alter Zuko’s judgment.

“Uh,” Zuko says. Everyone stares at him with pleasantly expectant expressions. He tries to take in Bumi’s appearance at a glance, difficult to do when met with that unnerving leer. He looks away again, quickly.

“Peter Pan?” he hazards, based solely off a) red hair and b) possibly green outfit?

It has to be right, because everyone at the table cheers.

“Good guess, Zuko!” Aang says. Inanely, Zuko wonders when the news will come in that they’re facing a nation punctuation shortage due to Aang using up all the exclamation points. “And this is Toph.”

Zuko waits, but Aang doesn’t supply her character. Is he supposed to guess again?

“Um,” he says. Toph is very short, even for someone sitting, and from Zuko’s perspective looking down at her across the table, her long black bangs entirely obscure her eyes. “…Edna Mode?”

There’s a moment of silence. And then an eruption of laughter.

“What?” Toph says, speaking loudly over her friends’ laughter. “What’s so funny? Who’s Edna Mode?”

“Remember the _Incredibles_ movie? She was the lady who designed all the outfits the superheroes wore,” Aang says.

“Oh, the lady with the funny voice?”

“Yeah,” says Suki, grinning. “You do look a lot like her, Toph. Really short black hair, bangs, small nose, kinda creepy smile. She wears glasses, though.”

This whole exchange is making Zuko feel like he’s missing something, starting from the moment Aang didn’t say which character Toph played. He isn’t sure what’s up with Suki describing Edna Mode’s appearance in such detail when Toph _just said_ she remembered the character—

Toph tilts her head back, just a little, and Zuko realizes she’s blind. He also realizes he’s an idiot. And _also_ , he wishes he were on fire.

“Hey, sorry about—” he starts to say, hoping he doesn’t sound as panicked as he feels, mentally running through every piece of advice Uncle Iroh has ever given him in the off chance that there’s something in there about How to Apologize for Accidentally Being Super Insensitive to a Blind Girl.

He’s cut off by Toph’s cackle.

“I like the sound of this chick,” she says. “Maybe I _will_ dress up as her and go out in the park sometime.”

“You should!” says Aang. “And Suki can be your Elastigirl.”

More laughter. Slightly paranoid, Zuko wonders if they’re just referring to the physical resemblance or if there’s something vital he’s missing about Suki like he’d missed Toph’s blindness. Considering how narrowly he got away with the latter, it’s probably best not to ask.

“You can be Dash, maybe,” Suki says, directed at Aang.

“Sure! And Violet—hmm—”

“Hey guys!”

It’s Jasmine— _Katara_ , he means—putting down her tray next to Toph’s, across from Aang and Zuko. There’s a chorus of “Hey, Katara”s from everyone else; Zuko goes for the polite nod again.

“Katara, this is Zuko!” Aang says. “He’s my Dale.” Zuko’s beginning to wonder if Aang has some sort of complex, like a compulsion to make as many introductions as possible.

“I know. I was there when you met him, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” Aang says, rubbing his neck. “I guess you were there.”

“And then today we were both guests at a beautiful wedding,” she says. Katara catches Zuko’s eye and smiles, like it’s a private joke between the two of them. Zuko looks away, uncomfortable.

“Yeah, it sure was…something,” he says. He shovels food in his mouth, trying to avoid further inane statements.

“I’m glad you’re eating with us today,” Katara says. “I don’t think I’ve noticed you in the caf before.”

“I’ve been in here once or twice. Mostly I sit alone in the corner.”

God, why’d he say _that_? He managed to make himself sound like a friendless loser. He _has_ friends. They just don’t work at fucking _Disneyland_ , is all.

It isn’t that Aang and his friends aren’t…nice, in their way. Contrary to what some people say about him, Zuko is perfectly capable of appreciating nice people. It’s just that this isn’t exactly what he envisioned for his summer job, and certain aspects of his life weren’t going too well even _before_ he was assigned to wear a giant fucking chipmunk costume, and none of this is even taking into account what will happen if Azula ever finds out about said summer job/giant fucking chipmunk costume.

“Katara, Zuko came up with an idea for what character Toph could play in the park,” Aang says, which is both a generous way of putting what Zuko said earlier and an incredibly blatant attempt to paper over the awkwardness of what Zuko _just_ said. This time around, Zuko resolves to keep his mouth shut. “Edna Mode!”

“Wait, we should explain,” says Suki, before Katara can react. “Sorry, Zuko, we never told you what Toph actually does here. She’s in management.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Toph grins. “I’m the boss.”

 _Are you sure?_ Zuko refrains from asking. He _met_ the boss, or at least _a_ boss, when he showed up for the first day of work. Actually, he’d spoken to her on the phone first, and she cheerfully told him he’d be playing the part of Shang, Mulan’s love interest.

And then she saw him in person. She blanched. She stuttered. And she handed him a giant chipmunk head and said there had been a change of plans.

“Not _the_ boss,” Suki amends, anyway. “She’s—what’s your job title, Toph?”

Toph shrugs, unconcerned.

“I wear many hats. Keeper of the costumes, princess wrangler, creature teacher—that’s where I teach Tigger how to be more Tiggerish and Meeko how to be more raccoonlike—”

“You just wanted him to dig through the trash,” Katara protests. “That was really unsanitary.”

“Hey, take it up with Mother Nature. I’m just going for authenticity here.”

Katara rolls her eyes. “Well, I do think you’d make a good Edna. You’ve got the abrasiveness down pat.”

“ _Thank_ you.” Toph beams. “We’ll have to try it sometime. It might be the closest I ever get to playing a face character—Boo doesn’t count, ‘cause that’s a full costume, and I’ve only gotten to do it twice—until Disney gets their shit together and comes out with a blind character.”

“Ooh, speaking of Disney getting their shit together,” Katara says, “I talked to Pakku, and he says he wants me to play Moana starting next month!”

“Katara, that’s amazing!” Aang says; the others add their own expressions of encouragement and congratulation.

“Thanks, guys,” Katara says. “I’m hoping Jin will go for a fifty/fifty split with Jasmine. I really want to spend most of my time playing Moana.”

Zuko manages to finish his food mere minutes into the in-depth discussion about _Moana_ —whatever that is—that follows. He stands up abruptly, shoving away from the table. Everyone stops and looks at him.

“Thanks for the company,” he says, once more aiming for polite and ending up at gruff. “I’d better get back out there.”

“But our lunch break is only half over!” Aang protests.

“I just need some, ah, fresh air.”

He shoves his chipmunk head back on, which might slightly belie his point. He turns to go before anyone can respond.

And promptly runs into a wall.

Scratch that: _not_ a wall, because walls don’t tend to yell when you run into them, nor to come crashing down to the floor with you in a tangle of legs and sharp elbows and even more yelling. Nor do walls generally carry trays of food that spill everywhere, including: the floor, your costume, and probably the other guy’s outfit, but considering how little Zuko can see right now, that last one’s just a guess.

“Oh my _god_ ,” groans the other guy, which more or less sums up how Zuko feels.

“My _fooood_!” the guy says next, which: less so. Zuko’s equivalent might be _my right shoulder!_ or _my dignity!_

“Sorry,” he says, because today just seems to be apology day, which is not something he’s particularly used to. “I didn’t see you coming.”

“ _What_?” the guy says. “Seriously, I can’t understand you at all with that thing on your face.”

Belatedly, Zuko notices his head has been knocked askew, which explains both why he can see even less than usual and why his voice must be coming out extra muffled.

“Sorry,” he says again, even though there’s no way the guy can understand _that_ either, and lifts the head off, intending to form a coherent sentence or two and help put order to their current confusion.

The guy turns out to be…a guy. A surprisingly well-muscled guy, for one thing, which at least helps justify Zuko’s momentary delusion that he was a wall. A guy with tan skin, dark hair, and quite possibly the bluest eyes Zuko has ever seen.

Zuko realizes he’s staring. Which is how he realizes that the guy is staring at him, too. And considering _Zuko_ doesn’t have inhumanly blue eyes, he knows what Sokka’s stare means.

(This is why he tries not to surprise people when he’s meeting them for the first time. If they can see him coming from at least a little ways off, they can prepare themselves to not look quite so shock-and-awe when they see his scar up close.)

Zuko scrambles to his feet, his heart inexplicably hammering in his chest. He really wishes he weren’t wearing most of a chipmunk costume right now.

“Sorry,” he says, one last time. Almost as an afterthought, he stiffly extends his hand.

The guy takes it and pulls himself up. His hand is warm and solid in Zuko’s. Zuko drops the grip as soon as the guy is standing, if not a split second before, causing him to wobble a little.

“Uh, it’s okay,” the guy says, still looking a little discombobulated. He looks around forlornly at the lunch carnage surrounding them. “I can just, uh, go back for seconds…”

“Not so fast,” Toph says, standing up. Zuko had more or less forgotten that everybody else is right there, watching the whole debacle. Now that it’s clear nobody has been grievously injured, they mostly seem to find it funny.

“Come on, both of you,” Toph says, coming around the table with a surprising amount of dexterity. She doesn’t even use a cane. “Those are expensive costumes, we’ve gotta get you cleaned up.”

“But Tooooooph!” the guy says, pulling an exaggerated look of misery. (Or maybe it isn’t exaggerated; Zuko doesn’t know this guy.) “My _food_.”

“Shut up, Sokka,” Toph says, sounding fond. “Lead the way to the costume department for our new friend here. Yip yip.”

“More like _chip chip_! Because he’s a _chip_ munk! Eh? Get it, get it?”

The guy—Sokka, apparently—grins, like he’s just said the most hilarious thing in the world and is just waiting on everybody else to match the pace of his dizzying wit.

“I’m Dale,” Zuko says.

Sokka deflates.

“Well, this should be fun,” Sokka mumbles, sarcasm dripping from every syllable, and for once, Zuko couldn’t agree more.

**Author's Note:**

> So I settle in for an A:TLA rewatch, I once again get swept away by the worldbuilding and the characters and the relationships and the battles and the epic thematic sweep of the whole thing, I think _I should really write some fic this time around_ , and I come up with...this. I don't know. What am I doing with my life?
> 
> All that aside, comments are always extremely appreciated, and you can find me on [tumblr](http://ladililn.tumblr.com) if you ever want to squee over Sokka, Zuko, Sokka/Zuko, A:TLA in general or...anything, really. ♥


End file.
